


Little Things

by sarahandthegraveyardshift



Series: The Wish Our Hearts Make [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, these boys I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29905803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahandthegraveyardshift/pseuds/sarahandthegraveyardshift
Summary: Peter listens and hums and sighs in content, pressing a kiss to the young spark's stomach before looking up at him with a happy, genuine smile. “I hear them, Stiles,” he says softly, hands running up and down the younger man's sides. “They're so strong. Just like you.”
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Wish Our Hearts Make [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611778
Kudos: 32





	Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hi, hello!! Oh my goodness, you're here again!! I am so very happy to see you!!
> 
> Thank you for being here and loving these silly boys as much as I do!! I just can't get enough of this beautiful little family!!
> 
> Enjoy!!

Stiles stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, lifting his t-shirt to expose his abdomen and running his fingers over the pale, mole-pocked skin. He presses down lightly in certain spots, feeling the softness of his own stomach and the slight firmness of his abdominal muscles. With a sigh he spreads his hand wide over the flat plain, reaching out with a small amount of magic to reassure himself of the two little lives inside him.

“Any change?” a voice asks from the door, and Stiles turns his head to find Chris leaning in the door frame, smiling at him like he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

The younger man huffs and shakes his head, looking down at his stomach with a quirk of his lips. “I know I won't show for another month or so,” he explains, sighing when Chris comes up behind him and places a hand over his. “I was just...checking.”

“Checking what, baby?” Chris hooks his chin over Stiles's shoulder and wraps both arms around him, swaying them back and forth.

Stiles looks at his stomach in the mirror. “It's hard to think about it—being pregnant. Without seeing it, I mean.” He purses his lips and draws his eyebrows together. “Everyone keeps saying I should feel different, that I should just _know_ that they're there.” A shuddering breath leaves the young man's lips, and he can't stop the sudden tears in his eyes from falling. “But without my magic, I don't even...” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Fuck, I shouldn't be this upset about it. It's stupid.”

“Hey,” Chris says instantly, turning the young man so that they're facing one another and wiping tears from his face with the pads of his thumbs. “It's not stupid. You're allowed to be upset, Stiles.” He leans forward and kisses the young man's temple, gathering him into his arms and holding tight. “Not everyone experiences pregnancy the same. And I think, under the circumstances, you're going to have a _very_ different experience than most people.” 

Stiles sighs into the older man's neck, sniffling as his shoulders drop slightly. “I just...I don't want to doubt that they're there. I want to be able to look at myself and _know_. You know?”

Chris smiles. “Yeah, baby. I know. Like you said, it won't be long before you're showing. I'm sure it will be sooner with twins.” He leans back and stares at his soulmate's water-laced eyes, wiping the fresh tears away. “I can see it, you know. You look so beautiful.” Stiles laughs wetly and wipes at his runny nose, shaking his head. “I have no doubts about the lives growing inside you. And neither does Peter.” He runs a hand through the young man's hair and lets it rest at the base of his neck, squeezing slightly to relieve the tense muscles there.

Stiles takes a shaky, steadying breath. “Okay,” he says, smiling at the other man gratefully. “Thanks, Chris.”

“Anytime,” Chris promises, kissing Stiles slow and sweet. “Peter's making pancakes.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums appreciatively. “That sounds—” A sudden lurch in his stomach triggers his gag reflex, and he turns quickly, lifting the lid and seat of the toilet to retch inside of it. His stomach is empty, so most of what comes up is bile. Chris leans down next to him and rubs his back soothingly until he's done, wiping the young man's face with a warm washcloth and handing him a glass of water. 

Stiles uses the first mouthful to rinse, spitting it into the toilet and flushing it before taking a few small sips to sooth his burning throat. He looks back at Chris with exasperation and huffs. “I guess morning sickness is one experience I won't be missing out on.”

The hunter smiles sympathetically. “I'll make you some peppermint tea. That should help with the nausea.” He helps Stiles stand, setting the glass of water aside after the younger man has a few more sips.

“Is it weird that I'm still starving after that?” Stiles asks as they leave the bathroom, then the bedroom, and make their way downstairs to the kitchen.

Chris squeezes his hand and chuckles. “Peter made plenty of pancakes.”

“I certainly did,” the werewolf agrees as they enter the kitchen. The smell alone makes Stiles's mouth water and his stomach gurgle with hunger. Peter places another pancake on top of a large stack and turns the stove off, smiling as Stiles walks straight into his arms and buries his face in his shoulder. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

Stiles draws in a tight breath. “Peter, can you do me a favor?”

Peter's arms around him tighten in concern. “Anything, my love. What is it?”

Stiles lifts his head and blinks until the sting of tears abates. “Can you listen to them? To their heartbeats?” His fingers clench into the other man's t-shirt as his eyebrows draw together. “Just...Just so I can be sure?”

Peter doesn't ask him what he wants to be sure of, merely runs the backs of his fingers along Stiles's cheekbone and nods with a reassuring smile before lowering to his knees. Stiles lifts his shirt, and Peter curls his hands around the younger man's hips, pressing an ear to the pale skin. Stiles strings his fingers into Peter's hair, holding his breath. 

Peter listens and hums and sighs in content, pressing a kiss to the young spark's stomach before looking up at him with a happy, genuine smile. “I hear them, Stiles,” he says softly, hands running up and down the younger man's sides. “They're so strong. Just like you.” He kisses Stiles's stomach a few more times before standing and wrapping him in his arms. 

“Thank you, Peter,” Stiles whispers, sighing in relief as the man rubs his back. Chris brackets him from behind, pressing kisses into his hair and behind his ear. 

“Tea's almost ready. Why don't you go sit down, baby? We'll bring everything to the table.”

Stiles revels in the warmth of his soulmates' embrace—safety, love—for a few more moments before humming and reluctantly pulling away from them. The tea that Chris makes settles his stomach. Peter's pancakes taste amazing and leave him comfortably full. And the conversation about what color they should paint the nursery makes him feel so unbelievably at ease.

0 o 0 o 0

A month later, Stiles starts to show, and Peter and Chris barely let him lift a finger. It's sweet—at first. But it starts to annoy him when he can't even stand up from the couch while they're watching a movie without being asked what he needs or where he's going or what's wrong or—

“I just need water!” he snaps without meaning to, sighing when Peter and Chris go silent. The hunter mutes the television, and Stiles puts his hands on his hips, looking down and shaking his head. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean...” He swallows and glances up again, making eye contact with each man before continuing. “I just want to get my own water. Please.”

He walks off towards the kitchen before either of them can react, staring into the fridge much longer than he needs to before grabbing a bottle of water and downing nearly half of it. Peter is the one to come find him, leaning against the counter and waiting until the younger man is ready to talk.

“I know you and Chris want to help,” he says, playing with the cap of his water bottle as he speaks. “And I appreciate it. All of it. Really, Peter, I do.” He gives the man a pleading look like he wants him to believe the words. “But I want to be able to do things, little things, while I can. You know?” He turns and hops up on the counter, huffing when Peter draws in a sharp breath through his nose. “Like this. And making the bed in the morning. And taking things down from the high shelf in the pantry or the cupboards. And bending down to put my shoes on.” His fingers curl around the edge of the counter and squeeze. “Because I know soon I'm just gonna be this big, bloated balloon, and I'm not gonna be able to do that shit for myself until after the babies are born.” With a resigned sigh, he leans back against the cupboards, hands resting on the slight bulge of his stomach. “I will absolutely ask for help when I need it, I promise. You and Chris can be my big, strong men until these kids decide to wreak glorious havoc on our lives.” Stiles watches as Peter crosses the kitchen and leans into the space between the younger man's legs. “Until then, can I just...get my own damn water?”

Peter's warm hands glide under Stiles's t-shirt, resting against the small baby bump. “I will do my best,” he says sincerely, looking back at the younger man with all the love in the world. “But you have to understand, darling, this is our first time with something like this. We already want to protect you as much as we possibly can. And with them—” Peter rubs at Stiles's stomach. “—that feeling is a hundred-fold. So while I can't promise that we won't be over-protective about certain things...” He sighs, hands shifting to Stiles's hips as he helps him off the counter. “I promise we will try to ease-up on the assistance until you ask for our help.”

Stiles rests his hands on Peter's shoulders, letting the man sway them from side to side soothingly. “Thank you,” he says, leaning in and kissing him slow and soft. 

They spend the rest of the evening curled around one another on the couch, Stiles leaning back against Chris, and Peter's head pillowed on the young man's stomach. Peter rubs circles into Stiles's skin while Chris runs his fingers through the spark's hair over and over.

Stiles is asleep before the movie ends.

**Author's Note:**

> I love them! I love them! I love them!
> 
> And I love you! For being here! Thank you so, so much! You are just the loveliest being to ever grace this universe, and I hope you are doing well and staying warm and healthy!
> 
> You deserve so many good things, my friend! Have an amazing day!


End file.
